Pizzazz, Jetta, and the Brat in Question part 1
by betteroffred
Summary: Pizzazz shares some bad news, and Jetta is none to pleased. Slashy Misfit fic with lots of swearing.


"Jetta..." Pizzazz whispered softly. "You awake?"

"Mm?" I peeled my eyes open slowly and smiled. "You're home," I muttered happily. I had fallen asleep while she was out at the office hammering out our touring schedule with Eric, but seeing her sitting there at the edge of my bed roused me from my slumber. The twinkling patio lights reflecting off the pool provided just enough light to see the contours of her figure, the curve of her mouth. "Yeah, I'm awake. Sort of. Depends on what you want," I yawned flirtatiously at her and prodded her with my toes.

"I need to talk to you."

That got my attention. Pizzazz never needed to 'talk' to you. She told you, she ordered you, or she commanded and flirted and seduced, but she did not 'talk'. Sounded too soft for her. It sounded like something a parent would say to a kid about to be scolded.

I looked up at her. Even in the dark I could tell she wore a serious expression. I sat up, rubbed the sleep from my eyes. "What's the matter? Problem at the office?"

"Nothing," Pizzazz answered quickly. "Nothing's the matter. I mean, nothings wrong." She sighed and frowned and chucked an innocent pillow across the room. It hit the wall with a feathery smack. "Ugh, shit, everything's wrong! Look... there's no easy way to say this. I'm fuckin'... pregnant... alright?"

I laughed, stunned silly by her admission. "Is it mine?"

She chucked another pillow at me. "Don't joke, this is serious!"

I rolled my eyes. "I'm sorry pet, I couldn't help myself." I took a deep breath and tried to get serious. This was big news. Big and bad. "So. Pizzazz. With_child," I clucked, letting the words roll slowly off my tongue, words alien in our lexicon. "Pregnant? How far along?"

"Three months."

"Three months?! THREE?!" I gawked at her, feeling that little admission like a bucket of ice water to the face. "How long have you known?"

"A couple days. I went to the doctor while I was in Spain," She sighed.

I chuckled at her. "You didn't think after the first few weeks, missing your period and all.."

"I DIDN'T miss it, that's just it!" She growled. "I had one up until... until this one. Thought I did anyway, a really light one... That idiot doctor said sometimes that happened...uh, 'implantation bleeding', I dunno... Talk about too much fuckin' information..." Pizzazz sighed again. "It's so unfair. People are supposed to get morning sickness and their period stops, there are supposed to be all these gigantic fucking CLUES that you're knocked up, but do I have one?! NO!"

I blinked at her and swallowed hard. "Three months, though, love... What are you going to do? CAN you do anything?" Or was it too late TO do anything now? Was she going to have to have the little bleeder?

"It's too late, I can't get rid of it," She shook her head. "The doctor gave me this big fucking lecture when I asked and I'm like 'fuck you, if I'd KNOWN I woulda been in here sooner!' Lecture me!" She snorted and sniffled, genuinely sounding upset by it all. Couldn't say I blamed her on that one. The idea made me queasy and I didn't even have the morning sickness to blame it on. "But how the fuck should I have known?"

To anyone else, perhaps our conversation would sound heartless, cruel even. Ordinary girls, they dream of the day this kind of thing happens. Ordinary girls get all silly and sappy when you mention babies to them, they get all doe-eyed and their brains turn to mush and they start speaking in cutesy little sing-songy tones and nonsensical monosyllables when there's a baby around.

Misfits aren't 'ordinary girls', though. We're none of us dreaming of white picket fences or handsome husbands and having litters of brats chasing at our ankles. Ok, the handsome husband part wouldn't be so bad if he wasn't actually my husband and I could trade him out for a newer model every week or so, but that's hardly the same thing, right? And kids? Aside from Stormer, none of us can stand them. Why would we want kids? What kid would want any one of us for parents anyway? Ok, MAYBE Stormer, but the rest of us?

In all honesty, we've all of us got our issues surrounding our own parents. We've all got issues with trust and love and we all drink too much and party too hard and we're always touring and what part of that sounds like fit parenting?

Cold hard facts of our lives being what they were... sometimes the hard choice is the best thing for everyone. Except, that option had been yanked out from under us and where did that leave us now?

"It's not your fault if you don't have any symptoms." I said, brushing her long, lovely green hair from her shoulders. "We'll find a way through this." I said, already plotting to ship the brat off to Switzerland.

"I feel cheated! I'm so fucking angry! This isn't supposed to happen like this, you know?"

I nodded. Oh, I knew, and I felt terrible for her. "So... what what are you going to do?"

"Have it, I guess," She grumbled, touching her stomach. "Have it and dump it on Jerrica's doorstep," She tittered angrily, but I knew she was joking. The look on her face; no, she'd never dump off her own flesh for Jerrica Benton to raise in the enemy's camp!

"Well then... The mansion's plenty big. I'm sure Stormer will love planning a shower for you," I tried to smile, tried really hard to be supportive when all the while I was feeling it like a death rattle. Having this kid would put a damper on our fun nights out, if it didn't put an end to them all together. I sighed wistfully in mourning for all our wild parties at the mansion... not to mention what it might do to our touring schedule.

"Oh hell, love... what about all the partying and drinking we've done in the last few months? Did you ask the doctor about that?" Because it was one thing to get saddled with a kid, it was entirely different to get saddled with some mentally crippled little vegetable all because she hadn't a clue she was knocked up and kept drinking like a fish through it all. She hadn't noticed morning sickness as she'd been too busy being hung over or puking up bottle after bottle of champagne, and dear god, what could that kind of drinking do to a baby? Brat would be better off drowned in a river at birth... and we'd be better for it, too, if that ended up being the case.

Again, that probably sounds terribly cold hearted of me, but someone had to ask the hard questions and I wasn't in the mood to be charitable.

"Oh, he lectured me on that, too. He said things looked fine now and later they can run tests to find out if the kid's gonna be normal or... fuckin' Quasi Modo or something," Pizzazz huffed and folded her arms.

The idea was an oddly terrifying one. I couldn't imagine what I'd do if it was me in her shoes. "Well... that's something, I suppose." I laid a hand over hers, having run fresh out of supportive things to say. "I wish I'd been there with you. You shouldn't have had to go through that alone."

"There's something else," Pizzazz looked away from me and rubbed a knuckle over her forehead. "Shit, you're gonna hate me for this..."

"What?" I asked, a chill running up my spine. "I mean, love, I'm not thrilled, but rock stars have kids all the time and still tour, we'll get through this. Even if you have to ship the brat off to boarding school, what's the harm? You grew up in boarding schools and you're a fucking goddess," I smiled hopefully at her.

"Jetta, it's Riot's." She turned and stared me dead in the eyes.

I stared back, frozen, her words taking an impossibly long time to sink in. "Excuse me?"

"It's Riot's," She whispered. "I mean, I think it's Riot's. The timing..."

"Riot's." I nodded, ice cold anger filling my veins. "You're sure of that?" I asked in clipped tones. I clenched my fists, gripping the sheets so tight I nearly punctured holes in them. "For as many boys as you see, you know it's his?"

"Jetta," She sighed.

"Don't you 'Jetta' me! Tell me how you know!" I snapped at her.

Pizzazz rolled her eyes. "Because Riot's the only guy I was sleeping with three months ago, ok?"

"Bullocks!" I smacked her with a pillow. "I know for a fact that's not true! What about those boys in the Keys? Or those dishy surfers from Florida?"

"We were in the Carribean two months ago, not three. I was already knocked up. " She said bluntly.

"Fine then, what about the other boys!"

"Jetta, there weren't any others, believe me, I've gone over this a thousand times," Pizzazz sighed. She held up a finger, tallying off speaking points. "Three months ago we were in San Diego for that stupid benefit, Riot and I hooked up." Another finger went up in the air, "A week after that I flew out to Austin for some stupid board meeting. No fun at all," Another finger went up as she ticked off points, "And a few weeks after that was the Vtv Awards, which I went to with Riot. Eric had me going to all these stupid events with Riot that month, I was too busy to... I mean, damn it Jetta, I barely saw YOU in March!"

I gawked at her slack jawed and furious. "Those triplets from the 5th Avenue Boys? And don't tell me you didn't because I was there! I KNOW for a fact that you slept with at least one of them!" Granted, I couldn't remember which one, being that they were all identical, but still!

Pizzazz blinked. "Nope, that was almost three and a half months ago. The timing doesn't work. And it wasn't the 5th Avenue Boys," She frowned at me. "It was their manager, thank you. I don't like red heads."

"Fuck... fuck!" I tried desperately to think of any other guys that we'd played with in the last few months. I'd had several without Pizzazz around. We'd watched Clash and some boys not too long ago... There was a night at a fetish party, but it had been pretty dull. "God, is that it?" I wracked my brain for faces, names, desperate to make this kid anyone but Riot's.

"The only people I slept with three months ago was you and Riot, and believe me, I wish to god there was any way it could be your kid."

There was sadness in her voice, regret even. I couldn't bring myself to pity her. "I can't believe this."

"Tell me about it."

"Do you have any idea how this is going to affect us? The whole bloody band?" I glared at her.

"I know, I can't stop thinking about it."

"Does Riot know?"

"No! Are you kidding?!" She chortled sickly. Pizzazz shook her head. "I wanted to tell you first."

"Well thank you for that!" I threw my hands up.

"Jesus, Jet, don't act like that. It's not my fault."

That was entirely the wrong thing to say to me, and my blood boiled. "Isn't it?" I glared at her, suddenly seething mad, suddenly questioning the truth of that little statement. "Isn't it really? Did someone force you into his bed? Haven't we been telling you for months and months to quit seeing him? Hadn't you even promised that you would?!" I laughed, thoroughly pissed off and the gears turning in my head. "Not that anyone expected you would, but you could have used some bloody common sense! How could you do this to us!?!"

"Jetta, listen, I--"

"No, you listen to me for a change!" I snapped, jumping up out of bed. "You really expect me to believe you didn't mean for this to happen? You, who's normally so meticulous about protection-- which is great, way we live, can't be too bloody careful. Yet somehow you just happen to end up pregnant by none other than the man you've been chasing blindly around for the last two and half years at that! Oh no, Pizzazz! It's just a little too bloody convenient!"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?!" Pizzazz stood up, fists clenched.

"It means," I stomped over to her. "It means, you bloody stupid little twit, that maybe you accidentally got knocked up or maybe you planned it all along. Maybe you just found out or maybe you knew three months ago and waited to say anything until after it was too late to fix it! MAYBE now you've got something to hold over his head he'll have to pay you some attention!"

"I DIDN'T PLAN IT!" Pizzazz shrieked at me.

"Yeah? You win either way, though, don't you?" I growled, grabbing up my clothes and throwing them on hastily. "You've got something of Riot's that Jem doesn't. He's yours for the next 18 years."

"Jetta, I swear to god, I don't even care if Riot ever finds out!" Pizzazz fumed at me, anger cut through with an edge of desperation.

"And just how do you figure he won't?! Word of you being pregnant gets out, the whole world's going to know, it'll be all over the bloody tabloids! They're a bunch of hacks but they'll put two and two together easily enough! Probably still have to do a dna test, but that's no trouble. Then what? You think you and Riot are going to have some happy family together? Even if you prove that baby's his, he's not going to want anything to do with you! Or it! Having his kid isn't going to make him love you, you stupid bitch!" I howled at her, utterly furious and losing the little bit of cool I had left all over the place.

"God dammit, Jetta, I don't even--"

"How could you do this to us? How could you have his baby, of all the stupid boys in Hollywood, why him?! HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?!" I blared, blubbering, jabbing her in the chest with two of my immaculately sculpted black nails. I had officially gone off the deep end, to be standing there crying in front of her. Underneath all my outrage, my heart was breaking. I felt like she'd ripped it out of my chest and ground it to a pulp under her shiny stilleto heel. Worse, I felt humiliated.

Months ago I had done the unthinkable and told her-- actually TOLD her-- that I LOVED her. Granted, this was in one of those moments when she'd 'left Riot for good' and we were thick as thieves, and, admittedly, yes, there had been many shots of tequilla that proceeded this event, but the sentiment had been real enough when I'd uttered those three little words. To have her turn around and lay this on me was too much to bare. She knew how much I loathed Riot, and it wasn't all due to how he treated her. Part of it was sheer jealousy. I didn't normally mind sharing Pizzazz with boys-- but the boys we shared were toys to us. They didn't mean anything to either of us, they were, how did the line go? 'Soft, strong, and disposable.'

At the center, it was us two, had been ever since I met her. WE were a team, WE were a perfect match, WE were best friends and partners in crime and... bloody hell, she'd never said anything to the effect but I really had thought she loved me up until the moment Riot had come into the picture. With Riot around, suddenly I'd become second in her life, and I didn't like it. I'd believed things had improved since she'd come back to the band, but apparently I'd been wrong. I scrambled to the bedroom door and bolted down the stairs.

"Shit," Pizzazz came running after me. She caught me in the main hall, just before I'd gotten to the front door. "Damn it Jetta, stop! Wait!"

"For what?! For you to lie to me some more?" I shouted at her.

"I'm NOT LYING!"

"I hate you!" I spat back at her, full of venom.

"Would you shut up so I can explain!?!" She grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me.

"Get your hands off of me!" I shoved her back. I stood, staring coldly at her in the dim light. "What could you possibly explain to me? How you're going to make everything right? Well, ducky, money isn't going to buy your way out of this one! Oh no, you've done it now! We'll never be free of Riot thanks to you!" I laughed, a bitter cold sound.

"Jetta..."

"You stupid, fucking, bloody selfish bitch! How could you do this to me?! Aren't we Misfits together? Aren't we a fucking team?!" Tears had long since clouded my eyes. I put a hand over my face, feeling like my world was ending. I was sobbing, and I gasped, choking for air. "I thought you... and me..." Were in love? God, I couldn't bring myself to say those words, not now. Hard enough on a good day; Misfits aren't big on things like love, and for good reason. Things like this happen and you get bloody well torn to shreds over it.

"We ARE," Pizzazz reached out and touched my shoulders. I was too upset, or I might have shoved her off again. "Jet, I didn't mean for this to happen. I swear to god, I didn't! But... I can't change it, either." She sounded broken and hugged me to her. "We're still a team, Jetta. I need you on my side!"

"Except that you're in love with him and you're going to have his baby," I sputtered and shook my head. I couldn't compete with that. "Go to hell, Pizzazz. I fucking hate you. I never want to see you again!" I made a dash for the door when she wasn't expecting it and ran to my car.


End file.
